


laying upon fields of wildflowers

by aisverse



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack, Established Relationship, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:09:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28809408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aisverse/pseuds/aisverse
Summary: Draco merely wanted peace to read on a weekend afternoon after being forced to attend eighth year with the rest of the school.Unfortunately for the blond, a Harry Potter without an arch nemesis is uncontrollable.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Ron Weasley/Blaise Zabini
Comments: 4
Kudos: 108





	laying upon fields of wildflowers

**Author's Note:**

> This doesn't make sense. There's no 'proper story' to this. I'm just trying to learn how to write descriptively again after a fucking decade. ugh. 
> 
> If everyone seems out of character? This is essentially a crack fic. So what's you expect?!

A warm breeze carried the faint smell of sweetened cinnamon and rich vanilla in through a barely cracked open window. The mild undertones of burnt caramel lingered in Draco's nose. He tilted his head back, chasing after the breeze. A large red leather bound book toppled off the windowsill to the floor with a thud that echoed through the high library ceiling.

Draco hastily dug his boot covered toe and kicked the book up into his outstretched hand. He balanced it precariously on the side of his knee, but his attention was drawn to the courtyard outside the window.

The sun had been surprisingly bright the last few days. A queer sign spring was coming along nicely by the way small patches of wildflowers had begun to sprout in ankle-high grass throughout the courtyard. 

Half the school had taken to hauling covers off their beds, of all things, and laying them out on the grass like makeshifts picnic blankets. Initially he had balked at the mere sight of the wildflower petals dirtying the cotton fabrics, but staring out of the window, he couldn’t suppress the lop-sided smile on his face. 

Blankets in all four of the house colours were smashed together to make one giant sleeping surface. Gryffindor red half covered by Slytherin green, with a Ravenclaw blue on the left, and a Hufflepuff yellow about a foot away. It was a kaleidoscope of clashing colours, and quite honestly looked like a unicorn had vomited after emerging from the lake. 

The first years cuddled in the middle, napping with their heads pillowed on each other’s stomachs or shoulders. The older years kept watch from the edges of the blankets. 

Some were slouncing on their sides, reading a book. Granger amongst them, with nearly an entire section of the library scattered at her elbows. Most, including Weasley, munched on tissue covered sausage rolls crammed into boulder sized wicker baskets. Draco had heard a passing Hufflepuff fifth year mentioning Longbottom had somehow managed to con several of the house-elves on kitchen duty to provide the food for the past two days in exchange for him gifting the meat and body of Voldemort's snake he had butchered during the Final Battle. The thought of it ran a chill down his spine.

No one wanted to know what the little devils had planned for it. Weasley had simply paled and leaned against Blaise Zabini, for some damnable reason, whimpering and begging to not be made to eat snake meat soup.

“You know,” a disembodied voice said suddenly. 

Draco jolted and sprung up from his seat with his hand half on the silver embellished wand holster tied to the back of his upper left arm. His book flew off his knee, though thankfully half landed on the windowsill instead of the floor this time. 

A body popped up from a crouch outside the window and snatched the book, twirling it in a hand painted with thin, shallow white scars. 

“I never took you as a bookworm type.” The boy grinned cheekily and had the gall to wink.

“Oh, fuck off, Potter.”

Harry laughed and pried the window to open fully. He grabbed the edges of the window frame and jumped up to sit astride on the sill. "Why're you couped up in the library? Half the school’s outside."

"Precisely why." With a huff, Draco sat down and grabbed the book. "No one wants their cheerful weekend afternoon ruined by the Death Eater scum, Potter."

Harry frowned and slapped the side of Draco's ear. "Don't."

"What? It's true."

"I wouldn't bother being with a Death Eater. You know that," Harry said. He reached forward to twirl a cluster of silver hair between his fingers delicately, then tucked it behind Draco's ear.

"Not even if they're _devilish handsome_?" Draco asked.

Harry laughed so abruptly, the rim of his glasses smudged where his cheeks pressed against the lens. He turned, facing the courtyard and yelled suddenly. “Hermione!”

The brunette barely lowered her book. "What?!!"

"Stop recommending romance novels to Draco!" 

"Stop being a ninny and drag that boy off to bed already and I wouldn't have to!"

Draco shoved his face into his hands and groaned. "Don't you dare---"

"He's not ready yet, 'mione!"

"At this rate, you two will need to redo the year _again_ to have any kind of high school romance!"

"We're not in high school!"

"Then what do you call this?!" She gripped red-lined hem of her skirt with one hand and waved in the direction of the entirety of the castle with the other.

"Secondary school!"

"Same shite, Harry!" 

“We’re not American, Hermione!”

“It's still English!” She laughed. 

Draco stared at the two of them blankly. Then stood and dusted off his robes. 

“Dray?” Harry started to turn and looked as if he was trying to cram his leg in through the small window frame.

“Stop.” Draco pressed a hand into Harry’s chest and shoved him out the window. Harry fell in a huff and pouted at the blond when he stuck his head out to look at Harry. “I’m going to my room to read in _peace_ , Potter.”

Harry tilted his head in a bashful turn and a damning grin tugging on his lips. “Want some company?”

“He said PEACE, Harry. Not _keep me on my knees_ ,” Ron screamed with a dramatic gagging motion, before Hermione threw a hardcover book into his shoulder.

The older students were either laughing as Ron fell over spasming with a hand rubbing his shoulder furiously, or looking extremely nervously in the direction of the napping first years.

With a sigh, Draco shot Ron a glare, but after seven years of breathing down each other’s necks in comparison, he must’ve had a soft tilt in his eyes because Ron simply wiggled his eyebrows. Then grunted when another hardcover smashed into his collarbone. 

“Thank you, Granger.” 


End file.
